As I was writing this column, I received yet another a scam call. At least, I assume it was a scam. I no longer even pick up the phone to unknown numbers, even on my work mobile, because they’re so often trying to sell me solar panels or frighten me with an AI voice warning me I owe the taxman.
Instead, I head straight to a website where I can type in the offending number and confirm that yes, this is indeed another scammer playing with my digits. At this point I might as well make this Directory of Criminals with My Number on Speed Dial my brower homepage, seeing as I’m on it so often.
Apparently, this should not come as surprise. London is now the scam call and text capital of the UK, with 78 per cent of Londoners hounded by scammers via their phones.
My text inbox - redundant to comms with friends, let’s be honest - is also a graveyard of scam messages telling me that my CV is getting interest, or that I need to follow a totally-not-suspect link to get my package re-delivered, or that one of my idiot clumsy children has smashed their phone AGAIN. Goddamnit Daniel!!
Okay, the last one is easy to spot as I have no children (that I know of, at least). If I did, they certainly wouldn’t have such atrocious command of grammar. These scammers seem unsure of my preferred parental title; last Thursday I received both a “Dad save my new number” and “Hi mum my new number”. Perhaps they wanted to cover all bases.
Last Thursday I received both a “Dad save my new number” and “Hi mum my new number”. Perhaps they wanted to cover all bases...
I haven’t fallen for any — yet — but I have come very close. I do love a bit of online shopping, so when a scammer pretends to be Evri or the Post Office asking me to re-book a delivery or confirm my address, I have to catch myself before blindly tapping on a link.
At least I am not alone. Londoners report home delivery scams are the most common with 21 per cent reporting being targeted by them, followed by online payment query scams (19 per cent), and bank scams (18 per cent). Romance scams seem to be a lot less popular, down at 15 per cent — maybe they know we’re all too hardened by dating in the city to fall for a Nigerian prince catfisher.
I was beginning to wonder if someone was just handing out my number on street corners
While I am grimly comforted that I am not alone in this scenario (seriously, I was beginning to wonder if someone was just handing out my number on street corners), it is just all so depressing. Going through your day dodging phone calls and eyeing each text notification with suspicion makes it feel like everyone is out to get you.
Upsettingly, I’ve noticed a real uptick in employment scams. Random numbers pretending to be recruiters or someone from HR, with the perfect job for you. Often they claim the work is part-time, remote and flexible, where you could earn hundreds of pounds a day and even get a training bonus.
The most disgusting, however, was a scammer pretending to be from the Department of Work and Pensions, “reminding” me that I had to submit an application for the Winter Heating Allowance for a £300 payment. “Failure to submit an application will render you ineligible for the stipend,” said the text, in a clear attempt to frighten older people worried about heating their home come winter.
It’s a reminder of how glaring the vulnerabilities the scammers are choosing to target are. A city of people worried about making ends meet, tempted by the idea of earning more cash. The cost-of-living crisis seems to have fallen out of the headlines. I guess it’s not news any more, it’s just the new normal.
It all seeps into the general feeling that everything is a scam right now
It all seeps into the general feeling that everything is a scam right now. We pay an extortionate amount of our monthly salaries to rent substandard housing, get fleeced every time we try to take a train journey somewhere and leave the self-checkouts feeling lightly robbed with each shop.
Then when we complain we’re lied to by politicians, who attempt to blame migrants for sucking up resources instead of decades of austerity and cuts, going back to Thatcher swindling councils by robbing them of social housing.
I can’t feel true rage towards the shadowy people behind the scam texts and calls. They could be in a far more terrible predicament. Earlier this year, Thailand’s anti-trafficking agency found tens of thousands of people locked up in “scam compounds” on the Myanmar border, innocent people who had been scammed with the promise of an office job, only to be kidnapped by criminal gangs and forced to send out scam messages.
But I can feel plenty of fury for the wealthy elites and certain politicians, who are making Londoners soft targets for scams. When you find out that the top 10 per cent of London’s richest people have hoarded 44.3 per cent of the capital’s total net wealth, do you feel scammed? I know I do. And they didn’t even bother to pick up the phone.
India Block is a London Standard columnist
